


Nothing God or Science Can Recall

by AngelWithAStory



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crushes, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Missing Scene, Polyamory, the bakery is prominant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: Taryon loved Vox Machina, and slowly,slowly, he felt their love too.EPISODE 95 SPOILERS





	Nothing God or Science Can Recall

**Author's Note:**

> title from Empty Man by Orla Gartland, which is a very Tinkers song
> 
> okay first thing: I just want to let you all know that sometimes if you wish for something really hard, it can come true. I cite Taryon liking boys for that claim (SAM CAME THROUGH, LADS)
> 
> second: I wish I'd been able to post something for the last two episodes but I was on holiday with very bad internet and then got swamped with school work so have this that was written from 7pm to 1am :D (also I played a bit with the placement of the events they talked about in the episode)
> 
> thirdly: I am not over Taryon Darrington just as a general concept.

“Tary, darling,” He barely looked up from his work. Just nodded and carried on, too focused on his work. “Have you thought about getting a permanent place to stay in Whitestone?”

Tary paused in his work. The enchantment on the armour was coming along nicely. A little difficult to make the enchantment strong enough and last long enough with the dragon scales. A nice challenge though.

He put down his tools, and looked over at Vex. She was sat to the side of the work bench, her hair pinned back as always, but her armour was somewhere up in her room. This was usually how they spent their evenings.

“I’ve been a bit busy to consider getting a house of my own.” Tary said, honestly. He didn’t talk about how that would make this feel too _real,_ too _permanent_.

“Well there’s plenty of houses available.” Vex said, idly playing with a discarded tool. “I’m sure Percy would be more than happy to let you stay somewhere. You could have your own workshop as well.”

“The offer is very nice, but I couldn’t be a burden.” Tary went back to his work, focussing hard on one small area near the shoulder plate.

A hand rested gently on his arm. Tary looked up, not used to either comforting not casual gestures of affection. Vex was leaning towards him, an odd look on her face.

“You _aren’t_ a burden, Tary.”

There was something in her voice that gave him pause. Some raw _understanding._  Some subtle plea not to think that way, to understand that he meant something.

Tary nodded. For once, he was lost for words.

“Can you pass me that vial, please?”

Vex handed him the vial.

 

“What sort of music did you listen to when you were growing up, Tary?”

Vex was leaning back in her chair, a book open in her lap. The cover mentioned something about some queen of Ravens and orchestras. He didn’t pay that much attention to it. Wasn’t his kind of read.

“Mostly classical pieces. Church music, sometimes.” Tary admitted. He was sketching out a few improvements to the designs Percy had leant him. They were intricate but messy. Products of sleepless nights and fevered, desperate obsession.

“No folk songs?”

“Not any that I remember.” Tary looked up from his papers. “Do you know any songs from your childhood?”

“Well, Vax and I had a very troubled childhood.” She said it so casually, with her bare feet resting on the table and the book on her lap. “But I remember there was a song our mother always used to sing to us. She was a human, but it was a song in Elvish. She told us that our father taught her it, so she sang it to us every night before we went to sleep.”

There was a small lapse into silence. Vex read. Tary tapped his pencil on the paper.

“Could you sing it for me?” Tary asked.

Vex stilled for a second. The book closed softly, her thumb keeping the page. Then she began to sing.

Softly, at first. Tary didn’t know what she was saying, but it sounded lovely. It sounded...sad. Vex’s voice grew more confident and so did the sorrow. But it wasn’t just sad. It was hopeful, and in love, and a little afraid. Yes, the sorrow was still there, but less so as the song went on. Maybe that was Vex’s influence on the tune. It was beautiful.

He was enraptured. Her’s wasn’t the finest singing voice he had ever heard, but certainly her’s was the most enjoyable.

The song finished, and Vex almost retreated back into herself. Embarrassment. Needless embarrassment.

“Th-” Tary cleared his throat, wiping the corners of his eyes. “That was lovely, little Elf girl. Vex’ahlia.”

Vex nodded, not quite meeting his eye.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve sang that song, actually.” Vex said softly. “I almost thought I’d forgotten it.”

“Well, it’s a lovely song. You should sing it more often.” Tary said. Vex looked up, a gauging look in her eye. But she nodded. She went back to her book.

Tary still tapped his pencil on the paper. Thinking.

He thought of his childhood. All the music he heard - which wasn’t a lot. Not like the song Vex just sang. Not something that personal, that full of love.

A thought struck him. Some old song that Lawrence taught him. That old folk song that he would sometimes sing softly in their quiet moments together.

Tary started singing.

Slowly, as first, stumbling over the tune, dusting off the words and trying to make it sound as lovely as Lawrence did.

He looked over and saw Vex watching him, a wry smile on her face. Her foot tapped along with the beat. She even joined in for the last verse. He smiled then.

Their voices trailed off with the last note, resonating in the quite workshop.

They let that moment hand between them.

An understanding. A truce?

“You have a nice singing voice.” Vex said. “You should sing more often, Goldie.”

Tary tried to hide him smile. The nickname was beginning to grow on him.

Vex went back to her book. Tary went back to his work.

 

“Tary, I’ve been thinking.” Vex said, barging into the workshop with the box of materials Tary requested. She hoisted the box onto the bench and began pulling out the individual parts as Tary mentally ticked them off his list. “About a place of your own.”

“Have you?” He inspected a root that Vex had brought him, double checking it was the right one.

“I’ve been thinking that since I’m rebuilding my house,” Vex said it so casually, but Tary could hear the pride and smugness in her voice, “that it would be no trouble at all for you to have your own room and a workshop of your own like Percy’s. You could decorate it anyway you _wanted_ , and it would be your own space and you’d have some _privacy_ -”

“I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t possibly encroach-”

“Not at _all_ , Tary.” Vex insisted, holding up a small metallic piece to the light. “I want you to have somewhere where you feel comfortable, and somewhere where you can just relax and unwind. Plus, having a place to stay here kind of makes it feel more like home, doesn’t it?”

Vex continued to pull out the small components, but Tary was stunned. Flabbergasted.  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Vex wanted to give him a room - a _home_ \- so that he’d be comfortable. So that he’d feel welcome.

That struck him in the chest much more than the necklace did. Much more than anything else so far had.

Vex wanted him to be included. Vex wanted him to feel comfortable.

“Well, if you insist.” Tary said, pretending he didn’t see the happy smile on Vex’s face. Pretending he wasn’t smiling just as wide.

 

The bakery was a bad, drunken idea.

But there they stood. In front of a building they apparently had bought in a drunken stupor.

His head was killing him. Even the Greater Restoration was taking a while to work its magic. He looked over at the three women next to him, arguably worse for wear. Keyleth was clutching her head as she looked up at the building. The tattoos along her chest and shoulders were healing well, but she still shifted in pain every so often.

“We really did it.” Pike said, more stunned than anything. “We bought a bakery.”

“Well, fuck.” Vex said, one hand on her hip as she examined the shop.

“I know.” Pike agreed.

“I mean, should we just go for it?” Keyleth said. “We already _bought_ the building.”

“Keyleth, we don’t know the first thing about running a bakery.” Vex pointed out. But she was thinking it though, trying to work it out.

“We could learn.” Tary pointed out. He couldn’t remember how he got roped into this, but they were in it now. No point backing out. “We could find recipes and hire some staff to help with the production. Start small and expand later.”

“Do you really think we could do it though, Tary?” Keyleth said, beginning to sound hopeful.

“Why not? I remember a few recipes from my childhood I could volunteer.” Tary said. He had no idea why he was volleying so hard for this bakery.

“I baked a lot with Grog and Wilhand.” Pike said. “And I can help out some days to oversee how things are going.”

“Ooo! I know how to make these little sweet treats that we have in Zephra that are really light and we can sell them in these cute little boxes!”

“So we’re really doing this? All of us?” Vex looked at them and back up to the building. “We’re doing this.”

“Oh, what should we name it?” Pike asked, clasping her hands together and pressing her forefinger to lips like she was in prayer.

“Box Machina?” Keyleth suggested. “Dough-ma Conclave?”

“I think the first thing we need to do is gather some ingredients and start searching for appropriate staff. Maybe start renovating the interior.” Tary suggested.

“Look at you, you little businessman.” Vex teased. He tried not to let the warm glow in his chest show. “But that’s actually a really good idea. Keyleth, do you want to start spreading the word around with Pike, while Tary and I get in contact with some carpenters. Oo, maybe we can rope Percy into helping us redecorate.”

“That sounds pretty good, come on Pike, let’s go find some bakers.” Keyleth agreed.

 

A small bell tinkled and Tary looked up. Usually, the bakery was quite quiet this late in the morning.

The other two bakers looked up from what they were making, ready for the afternoon rush, but Tary was quicker.  

“I’ll be there in just a second!” Tary called, scooping the last of the batter onto the tray and placing it in the oven. He set the little timer than Percy had crafted for them and shut the oven door.

He looked down at his hands. They were covered in flour and a little sticky from the batter. He had an ache in his palm and he could feel the skin beginning to roughen from all the physical work he’d been doing. It felt like accomplishment.

He grabbed a clean cloth and wiped down his hands as he made his way to the front of the bakery.

“Welcome to the Slayer’s Cake, how may I help you?” Tary said, before really registering who was there. He paused at Percy’s amused look, standing in the doorway. Sunlight streamed from behind him, feathering his white hair. It was hot enough that he wore lighter clothing, just to enjoy the rare warmth.

“That was a warmer welcome than we ever got at the actual Slayer’s Take.” Percy mused, wandering up to the  counter. He looked over the pastries and delicate cakes available. “I just came in to see if you’d seen Vex this morning.”

“She left for the forest early this morning and said that she’d be back tomorrow afternoon, hopefully.” Tary said, tucking the rag into his pocket.

“I assume she took rations.” Percy said.

“After last time, I packed some extras for her.” Tary said. It took him a moment to realise how domestic that sounded. How casual it was to say.

Yes, they’re lived together for a few months now, but it still felt slightly strange to fall into a familiar pattern.

Percy nodded and went back to looking through the display.

“These look new.” He said, pointing at the plate of brightly coloured macarons that he had made earlier.

“I made them this morning.” Tary said. “They’re a delicacy back home. Do you want to try one?”

“Alright then.” Percy said, leaning on the counter.

Tary pulled a few onto a small plate and placed them on the counter between them, pushing them gently towards Percy. He tried not to look too intently as Percy sampled his wares.

“These are very good, Taryon.” Percy said, delicately wiping a crumb away from the corner of his mouth. Tary’s fingers twitched. “May I take some up to the castle with me?”

“Oh, by all means.” Tary said, blinking in surprise. “I’ll put them in a box for you. On the house.”

He tried not to think too hard about this as he busied himself. He tried not to think about the electricity as Percy’s fingers brushed him as he handed over the box.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Tary.” Percy said, not moving away from the counter. “How have you been?”

“Busy, mostly.” Tary said. “For the first time in my life, I’ve been kept busy.”

“It suits you.” Percy said, taking in Tary’s appearance. Simple working clothes, an apron tied over the front of it, his hair pulled back in an elaborate plait that Vex had twisted into his hair before she had left this morning.

Tary didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Well, it’s good to do something for myself.” Tary said, not thinking about his servants growing up or the rehashed plans for Doty 2.0 hidden in his bedroom.

“Speaking of which,” Percy said, leaning in again. His face was very close now. “If you’re not too busy, I have some projects that I would really value your input on.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Percy promised. “And I’d be more than willing to offer my help with anything you wish to work on.”

“That… That sounds agreeable.” Tary said, thinking it over for a few seconds.

“Perfect! Now, when do you have the most free time?” Percy straightened his back very slightly.

“Afternoons should be good for me.” Tary said.

“Is this afternoon good?”

“I think this place will be able to cope without me for a little while.” Tary said, looking over his shoulder into the back room. “If you let me finish this last batch, shall I meet you up at the castle?”

“Very well.” Percy said, tucking the box of delicacies into his bag. “I shall see you soon.” He said, tapping the counter before turning to leave.

Tary went back to baking.

 

It happened slowly. The casual touches, the compliments, the gentle teasing. Tary almost missed it if he weren’t so hungry for it.

He felt like he lived for those afternoons in Percy’s workshop, working beside him, constructing beside him. He felt honoured to be called upon beside Percy to help Keyleth. He felt incredibly lucky when Percy offered to help rebuild Doty.

He liked his routine. He liked the bakery, he liked tinkering in the afternoons, he liked enchanting in the evening. He liked drinking with them in the evening.

“You know, Tary,” Vex said one evening, when they were tired and drunk and only in the kitchen for scraps of food and water before sleep, “I really don’t mind sharing.”

“Pardon?” Tary asked, not used to the amount of alcohol in his blood and feeling it.

“Percy. I don’t mind sharing. He doesn’t either, really.” Vex said, picking at some cooked meats she brought back from a hunt a few days earlier. “He told me.”

“He told you.”

“Yes, he told me.” Vex reached up and placed a hand on Tary’s face. “I want him to be happy. We _both_ make him happy.”

 

When they were sober, they set the rules. They all agreed to the rules, and some part of Tary knew that this would work.

 

Taryon loved the days when Percy visited him in the bakery, bored with nobility and craving some fresh air and sugar. When he’d visit in the early morning when it was just him and Tary. When he’d try his hand at baking and somehow get flour over half the counter.  

When Tary would kiss Percy and the world would right itself. When the ache in his chest and the name _Lawrence_ would fade until they didn’t hurt quite that much.

Stolen kisses as ingredients were passed back and forth. Lingering lips and gentle hands pushed up against walls and counters as the smell of bread started to fill the air. Pinches of flour thrown playfully. The taste of sugar and batter on tongues.

 

Taryon loved the days when they would work together in a strange harmony, a synchronicity like a fine art. Almost telepathic passing of tools and materials, pointing out improvements over the shoulder, laughing together over stupid anecdotes and funny quips.

Warm hands sliding up under shirt in the privacy of the warm, heavily bolted workshop. Murmured words of affection and whispers against skin. Running hands through hair. Pulling shirts closer or off. Mouths hanging open and small bruises bloomed along necklines.

 

Taryon loved the days when Vex would return from a hunt and he’d be the one to make sure she was alright. When they would drink to celebrate and Vex would swap stories with Taryon, trusting him to guide her back to their ( _their!_ ) home even though they were both drunk. He loved learning about Vox Machina through her and her tales, learning her insecurities and knowing not to mention them. He loved the morning when he’d wake up and find a surprise member of Vox Machina waiting to whisk him away on a trip. When they’d help him in the bakery, or when he’d help them with some task they needed his expertise for.

  
Taryon loved Vox Machina, and slowly, _slowly_ , he felt their love too.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [queenmoggy](http://queenmoggy.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to drop by and talk about our lord and saviour Sam Riegel


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